


The Undertow

by PreseaMoon



Category: Magi: The Labyrinth of Magic
Genre: Character Study, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-15
Updated: 2020-07-15
Packaged: 2021-03-05 06:01:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25279675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PreseaMoon/pseuds/PreseaMoon
Summary: Kougyoku and Hakuryuu on the way to Sindria.
Relationships: Ren Kougyoku & Ren Hakuryuu
Comments: 2
Kudos: 15





	The Undertow

When she saw King Sinbad up close for the first time Kougyoku imagined waking up beside him would be a wondrous thing. That he would be a caring man and giving lover, who’d cradle his beloved in his arms so that they may find reassurance in his heartbeat, strength in his company, and peace in his breathing. She imagined that he would shower his wife in charm and adoration, parade her around so that all others may envy her good fortune to be the one graced with his commitment.

Even as her brain provided her with these ideas she knew they were fanciful in their improbability. She overheard enough gossip about him from servants, information of his political and military movements, and stories from Judar to paint an unflattering picture of the ruler of Sindria. The man she met, though, did not reflect those stories. He wasn’t who she assumed he’d be, in looks or personality.

He was handsome, firm when the odds were not in his favor, reasonable. Kougyoku couldn’t bring herself to look directly at him for long, but it was almost impossible to keep her eyes away from him for too long. Desire unfurled deep within her core in a way it never had before, like a dam, and every time she thought of him from then on she found herself overflowing with more emotion than she knew what to do with.

At that time, when she took the initiative to twist her orders to suit herself it felt more empowering than the status her metal vessel had granted her. She understood the potential she was given to shape her future for the first time.

She fantasized endlessly during the long weeks leading up to King Sinbad’s arrival in Rakushou.

Waking up beside Sinbad would be comforting and warm. The mornings would never be lonely.

Waking up beside Sinbad would feel like home, because that’s how it is when you’re in love.

Instead of any of that, it turns out that waking up beside Sinbad is the most terrifying experience of her teenage years. 

More stressful than the potential rejection of her siblings, more nerve-wracking than conquering a dungeon, more desolate than her years alone. Her hands shook for hours after, worsening to the point she could help but let a small whine slip whenever she attempted to recall the sequence of events that led to King Sinbad’s company, let alone his bed.

She didn’t talk to him during the banquet.

She walked toward her room, not the guests’ quarters, but she was knocked unconscious somewhere between. Her head and neck throbbed for days after, refusing to let her push aside what happened to focus on her duties. 

The rest of her seemed fine. No bruises she could find, even with twisting herself into uncomfortable positions to see her back in a mirror. No pain outside that around her head. She was too scared to check other areas more closely, or consult a medic to check.

Maybe it was normal to not experience pain? Or maybe she was overreacting.

She was told she most certainly was not. Is not. But it doesn’t make her feel any better.

Part of her is ashamed for having ever dreamed of Sinbad, like her silly infatuation is what put her in his sights and drew him to her.

Most of her is ashamed for wishing it had gone differently, almost any other way. Maybe if Sinbad had just approached her, had spoken to her and valued her for her, then maybe… She doesn’t even know. Would she have wanted to? If he had asked. Would she have gone through with it if he pressured her? Would he have listened.

It’s not any better. It might be worse. But still she indulges in greedy scenarios where King Sinbad didn’t ruin the fantasy of him.

She doesn’t know what she’s supposed to do now. Now that she’s like… this. Is she meant to tell His Majesty? Or maybe Her Majesty instead?

She can’t bear it. She simply can’t. How will His Majesty look at her, to know his lowborn daughter was taken by King Sinbad? Will he blame her, think it suits her? Cast her out of the family and the palace, because who will want her now? What use is she now?

She cries, because she doesn’t know what she can do or what can be done to salvage any of this.

She goes about her duties in a haze. No one seems to notice that she’s quieter than usual, and it makes the desolation feel more profound than it already does. It shouldn’t, because if anyone were to ask her what’s wrong she’d have no idea what to say, and can’t guarantee the truth wouldn’t slip out by mistake.

Then, Koubun, one of the few who knows what happened, comes to her claiming good news. “Prince Hakuryuu will be leaving for Sindria in a week’s time to study abroad.”

Kougyoku doesn’t see what that has to do with her. It’s not any of her business if Hakuryuu is being sent away. 

“Princess, don’t you see? We can join him and confront King Sinbad, compel him to take responsibility for his actions.”

Nothing sounds worse to Kougyoku. After what he did to her, how can she be expected to look at him? To even attempt facing as any sort of equal or person deserving of respect? Who is she, now, to compel him of anything at all?

What if he tries it again? What if he doesn’t want to let her leave? What if His Majesty won’t care?

She doesn’t want to cause hassle like that for her brothers. She doesn’t want to ruin anything.

She doesn’t want to go. There’s no point in such a thing. She can live like this, disgraced, dishonored. It’s fine. What kind of princess does it make her if she can’t withstand at least this much?

If she never speaks of it, no one has to know.

Koubun is disappointed, though tries to hide it. He asks her to reconsider, as he’s already spoken with His Majesty. She shouldn’t dismiss going on impulse. Confronting King Sinbad will give her closure, and an opportunity to contest her lost honor.

Kougyoku wants to disregard him, but in the face of his disappointment, of the innumerable things he’s done for her, she can’t. She promises to think about it over the week they have until Hakuryuu’s departure.

She weighs out the pros and cons.

Maybe it would give her some sense of closure. She didn’t see him at all after. If she could look him in the eye, maybe then she would understand. Why her, why then, why at all.

He surely took notice of her interest, right?

Maybe it will give her strength. She could call him out, and come back home stronger than she is now.

Maybe he will ignore everything she has to say, and call her as worthless as she feels.

At the very least, at least her brothers and His Majesty would not be present to witness her disgrace. Only Hakuryuu, who… She doesn’t know. Would Hakuryuu think less of her, too? She doesn’t want that either.

In the end she decides to go, because there is nothing more she can lose. She would rather regret going than regret having not gone. 

With the resolve affixed to her heart, she finds herself getting a little excited in spite of the circumstances. It has been a long time since she left Rakushou for leisure. This study abroad is a gesture of goodwill on both ends, and there’s more to Sindria than Sinbad himself.

They’re given a modest entourage to accompany them, just enough that no one can claim they’re undermanned. No one with prestige is assigned to oversee the journey, which she thinks is unexpected considering their destination. Or do the fourth prince and eighth princess, son of the previous emperor and daughter of a courtesan, hold that much esteem? 

Sending them for this is almost like a veiled disrespect, a joke no one but those from Kou will appreciate.

Most likely His Majesty finds them expendable in that way. If they were to be hostages or bargaining chips they are not worth much, less together.

She is not naive enough to think that, should the worst occur, they find her adequate protection for them with her metal vessel. While she is capable of performing a full djinn equip, she is not so arrogant to claim she’s anywhere near mastering Vinea. Every time she wields her metal vessel she lets instinct guide, and so far none of those times have been situations where her life or others’ were in danger.

The first few days aboard, Kougyoku spends her time getting acquainted with the ship’s layout. It’s not the most grandiose ship the Empire has, nor is it the nicest ship Kougyoku has ever been on personally. Everyone’s quarters are a little too close for her liking, with not enough division between her room and Hakuryuu’s, and definitely not enough division between their rooms and the soldiers. Even with the soldiers giving them space there are still moments they almost run into each other.

Despite the close quarters and seeming impossibility to get any time alone, Kougyoku doesn’t cross paths with Hakuryuu at all during the first week of their trip. She doesn’t see him, not even from the corner of her eye, not even coming and going from his room, not even at meal times. She doesn’t hear him or hear of him. There is little to no evidence of his presence, to the point she thinks they have somehow managed to leave him behind. 

The thought hits her, and following it is the fundamental fear of having to Sinbad on her own that she didn’t realize was there.

At first light the next day she asks Koubun if he’s seen Hakuryuu, to which he shrugs after momentary consideration.

The prince is aboard because they wouldn’t have left dock otherwise. As for what he’s up to… who can really say? Hakuryuu isn’t a prince who’s made parading himself around habit.

In truth, it’s a little bothersome that Hakuryuu thinks he needs to hide. Among them, who is there he needs to hide from?

Through the second week she makes a concerted effort to not let it bother. Though she keeps an eye out for him, she focuses mostly on her own studies and training, and attempts to work out a script for confronting King Sinbad. All the etiquette lessons in the world couldn’t prepare her for this. Everything she wants to say is at once too much and not enough. The words are both hollow and more honest than anything she’s ever thought to voice in the past.

The whole process feels like a useless charade, because Sinbad cannot give back what he took. There’s nothing to be done, truthfully, and as she pens one sentence only to replace it with another and another she wonders what she expects. What is the best outcome? What does closure do for her, and what does she do if it’s not given?

Koubun suggests that King Sinbad take responsibility by marrying her. The proposal disgusts her. Delights her. Disgusts her further.

It will be embarrassing. To hear him reject her that way, to have him declare for all to hear that she is good for bedding and nothing else. At least her father will not be there to bear witness. At least her older brothers won’t be. Only her attendants. Only Hakuryuu, but she doesn’t want him to think of her that way either.

Late into the nights she plays out various, poorly written, poorly acted worst case scenarios in her head. She wanders the deck, letting those thoughts swirl in endless repetitions. Every night. Including tonight. And she stares out into the dark water until she can almost see her theater in action on the moon’s reflection. When they grow closer to materializing she flinches and moves on, her fingers sliding along the smooth rail. With a sigh she looks up at the unfamiliar constellations she’s slowly getting used to.

There’s still more than a month until they arrive in Sindria. She’s had minimal success in figuring out what she’s going to say, and she’s not the most optimistic she’s going to find the words at all. There’s time still, and yet… well, maybe Vinea can give her an express trip back home if she ends up changing her mind. Or at least to one of their territories where she can rest before making the trip back. On her own.

Kougyoku takes a breath and faces the oncoming breeze, but she wrinkles her nose at the saltiness of the air. Then, she makes an aggravated noise and hits her palm against the rail, not embarrassed at all by the echoes that carry through the deck.

She lets out a breath, trying to force herself to relax, and when she turns to face the ocean again she spots movement from the corner of her eye. Turning, she finds Hakuryuu a short distance away from here, almost mirroring her pose against the rail. He’s angled towards her, and as she takes that in she realizes that he’s been here the entire time, blended into the night.

He definitely heard her just now.

Kougyoku’s face lights up with a blush, and she hikes up her shoulders while her face burns in the cool air. Her hands meet in her sleeves and she pulls them up to hide her face. After too many seconds she peeks out to find Hakuryuu still there, looking at her with what can only be uncertainty.

The racing of her heart sends a tendril of shame through her. Regardless of how unfamiliar they are with each other they’re still family. And Kougyoku is older than him. He is her younger brother, so she should take the lead through any awkwardness.

Suppressing her nerves and taking a breath, Kougyoku tries to think how her older brothers would handle a situation like this. She clears her throat, and then says, “Hakuryuu.”

There’s a slight ripple in his clothes as he turns to face her, which is apparently all the answer she’s going to get.

She doesn’t actually know what to say. Is she allowed to approach him as a big sister? The thought refuses to be discarded, and before she knows it she’s saying, “Shouldn’t you be in bed?”

Who does she think she is, Hakuei?

Hakuryuu blinks at her, and then looks at the moon. The soft glow of it illuminates his face, making it look ghostly against the white of his robes. He’s not even in sleeping robes. But neither is she.

“I couldn’t sleep,” Hakuryuu says. His voice is quiet but the water carries it over to her. He always comes off so gentle. Kougyoku is almost envious.

She waits for him to ask the question in return but he doesn’t.

Perhaps she should take that as disinterest, but she pushes past the anxiety like the big sister she isn’t. “I couldn’t sleep either. Are you nervous about arriving in Sindria? You’ve never traveled outside the Empire, right?”

He surprises her by not making an excuse to leave right away. “No. His Majesty didn’t allow it until now.”

“He must think you’ve really grown a lot in the last few years,” she says brightly.

Hakuryuu’s neutral expression grows hollow and he looks away again. Was it the wrong thing to say? Her father’s acknowledgement is not a widely sought after prize, but he is still their father, their Emperor, and his sending Hakuryuu on this task speaks to Hakuryuu’s perceived capability. That’s significant when Hakuryuu is not even part of the military.

When Hakuryuu turns to her again there’s a palatable smile on his face but not much else. The corners of his mouth are turned up just enough to pass as a valid expression, but the dullness of his eyes proves its insincerity.

“Whether he thinks I’ve grown or not, I am grateful to His Majesty all the same. I won’t let the opportunity go to waste, for myself or for Kou.”

Kougyoku covers her mouth with her sleeve as she chuckles. “You don’t have to put on performances like that for me. Unless you really enjoy doing so that much.”

She has watched him from behind enough corners to know this level of etiquette is not his default. Plus, no one is grateful for His Majesty’s orders beyond what’s expected in the moment. That’s just the sort of emperor he is. Hakuryuu does not take her words so playfully, however. The decorum melts from his expression, leaving it dull and empty and tired.

To Kougyoku’s knowledge His Majesty does not treat him as lesser than his own children, but to be blunt that does not count for much. His Majesty could treat him better than her or worse than her, and neither would be surprising.

They are family, but it doesn’t mean much to His Majesty.

In a similar vein, the two of them are siblings but it doesn’t seem to mean much to Hakuryuu.

Maybe it would if Hakuryuu hadn’t had siblings in the first place. If he had been alone and then found. For Kougyoku, discovering her brothers was a life changing thing she’s grateful for every day. She doesn’t know what she’d do without them, but maybe she can glean some kind of idea by looking at Hakuryuu, who’s guarded but you can still see the hurt in every bow and faked smile.

It is not as if she needs to be dear to his heart, but… well. She doesn’t exactly have any other younger siblings. None of her siblings need or want her help, because they’re all more worldly than she is, more experienced in anything she could think to name.

“I’m pretty nervous about it,” Kougyoku offers as if it will offset any discomfort she created, but it’s her voice that’s too soft now. “About going to Sindria, that is.”

Some emotion works its way into Hakuryuu’s eyes, and though it’s not the happiest, it’s far better than the nothing that was there previously. He moves a little closer, so she doesn’t need to speak much louder, but keeps generous distance between them.

Kougyoku takes a breath, and then finds she has to swallow back the sob that suddenly wants to come out. She grips the railing tight to steady herself, worries her nails into the wood. “There’s something I need to say to King Sinbad. But. The idea of going through with it, it’s actually really scary.” 

She pushes a smile to her face like it will make any of this easier, but the force of it makes the tears she didn’t realize were there overflow. She shuts her eyes and hopes the moonlight isn’t so bright it highlights her tears. Alternatively, hopefully Hakuryuu isn’t paying attention.

Hakuryuu is quiet for so long that she thinks he’s left, and she almost lets out the sob trapped in her throat. But then comes his voice, so kind and gentle from the side, and she can’t tell if it’s for himself or for her. “It’s fine to be scared. After all, you don’t have to do it by yourself, right?”

Kougyoku sniffles and looks at him after wiping her face. There isn’t any pity in his eyes. He’s simply saying how he thinks it is.

She was thinking it’d be horrid, doing such a thing with Hakuryuu and her attendants and their soldiers at her back. Calling out Sinbad in front of them will put the images in their heads, and she doesn’t want that. Them thinking of her that way is mortifying. Some of them already know, but she doesn’t want to reinforce it or let it spread among the ranks. She doesn’t want to look weak in front of them, which she’s sure she will, talking about this.

But maybe there’s strength in vulnerability, and in allowing her people to see her at her lowest point. Maybe she can draw strength from Hakuryuu standing behind her, the way she would with her older brothers. Maybe she could do the same for him.

“Are you scared at all, Hakuryuu?”

Hakuryuu draws a long breath, but then all he says is, “No.”

After a moment of searching she can’t tell if that’s the truth or a lie. “Is that true?”

“Does it make a difference whether it is or not?”

“Of course.”

“I don’t think it does.”

“What does that mean?”

Hakuryuu shrugs. “That they’re the same thing.”

Kougyoku still doesn’t know what that means. “Are you being cryptic on purpose, Hakuryuu, because I don’t appreciate it.”

He starts to smile. His attempt to smother it makes the expression all the more sweet. “I’m sorry,” he says, and it’s the most genuine apology she’s ever heard from him.

Abruptly, she finds herself wanting to shove at his shoulder, like he’s Judar, like he’s some irksome younger sibling. She even draws her arm back to follow through on that impulse, but stops.

They aren’t like that.

She can tell from the way he’s hunched over that if she touches him he will retreat, and she doesn’t want that.

Instead she puts her hands behind her back and blinks away the few tears that remain. “I accept your apology. I’m sure I can think of a way for you to make it up to me.”

She risks a glance at him and finds him still smiling. It makes her smile too, a little.

“Okay,” he answers, and it’s not exasperated at all.


End file.
